


A Slip of Blue

by kailogan



Category: PRISTIN (Band), SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Angst, Coming Out, Dom/sub Undertones, Fluff, Gender Issues, Internalised Homophobia and Transphobia, M/M, Multi, Transgender Characters, Transphobia and Homophobia, jihoon makes lots of mistakes, non binary characters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-29
Updated: 2018-05-23
Packaged: 2019-02-23 07:29:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 14,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13185249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kailogan/pseuds/kailogan
Summary: When Jihoon woke up this morning, he didn’t expect that this was how he’d end his day. In the dorm bathroom, watching Soonyoung hopping on one foot to wrestle with the small strap of a kitten heel.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Pinepitch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pinepitch/gifts).



When Jihoon woke up this morning, he didn’t expect that this was how he’d end his day. In the dorm bathroom, watching Soonyoung hopping on one foot to wrestle with the small strap of a kitten heel. His fellow member was wearing a dress that came to just above the knee, in pale blue, soft looking, thin material covered in small drawings of bluebirds. Jihoon felt his mouth go dry as Soonyoung looked up at him, face covered in prettily applied make up. It was maybe two seconds, as the two made eye contact, before Soonyoung screamed, stumbled backwards, tripped and fell into the bathtub. 

**(17)**

“Lee Jihoon! Open this damn door!”

“No! Hyung, just go away!” 

Jihoon was sat on the floor, Soonyoung’s head in his lap whilst he glanced at the door frantically. Soonyoung was unconscious and wearing a dress and Jihoon reached for one of the hand towels. Seungcheol banged on the door with the sincerity and forcefulness of a man frantic with worry. 

“Ow!” he yelped as his knuckles, presumably, bruised against the wood. 

“Cheollie? Is that you?” it was Jeonghan this time. Jihoon groaned at the realisation that a crowd seemed to the gathering outside the bathroom door. 

“Hoshi-yah! Please wake up,” Jihoon was starting to feel a little frantic now. He wanted to shake the taller idol, but was pretty sure that wouldn't be helpful to any sort of concussion he could possibly have. 

“It hurts, Han!” Seungcheol bemoaned in the way he often did. Jihoon could practically hear the puppy dog eyes he was giving Jeonghan. 

Blearily, Soonyoung blinked his eyes open and Jihoon thought that he might be the one to faint this time with sheer relief. 

“Why are you banging on the door?” Jisoo sounded worried and Jihoon wanted to flinch. A worried Jisoo spelt guilt for whoever might be the cause. 

“H-Hoonie?” Soonyoung coughed violently, shaking in Jihoon’s arms. He looked disorientated and as he tried to sit up, he hissed in pain and suddenly brought his hand to his head. Jihoon knew he probably needed a cold compress but due to the people standing outside the door, he was reluctant to get one. Unsure of what best to do, Jihoon grabbed a flannel from the cupboard under the sink and soaked it in cold water before handing pressing it to the back of Soonyoung’s head. 

The knocking returned and Soonyong jumped at the sound. 

“Woozi Hyung!”  _ Goddamnit, Boo Seungkwan.  _ “Come out! Coups Hyung said he heard a bang!” 

“What’s going on?” Soonyoung asked, looking up from Jihoon’s lap with eyes filled with confusion. 

“You fell.” Jihoon answered, ignored the other’s outside now Soonyoung was awake. 

“Oh….yes, I,” Soonyoung looked like he was going to continue but didn’t. 

Then, suddenly, Soonyoung sat up and scooted away from Jihoon in horror. He was looking down at his dress and then back up at Jihoon, hands shaking and eyes misty. His breath was coming in gasps and Jihoon quickly threw the flannel into the sink and moved forward to grip the dancer’s hands. 

“Soonyoung, hey, it’s okay, Hoshi, look at me,” he knew he was babbling and needed to slow his words. He had seen Soonyoung have panic attacks before but had never been the cause of one.

From his experience, the best thing to do was give Soonyoung some kind of shock, something to stop him hyperventilating. 

“Yah! Hoshi, look at me.” he released Soonyoung’s hands then, reaching up to hold his face and force him to make eye contact. 

“I-I, uh, Jihoon, I don’t…” his voice was shaking and Jihoon didn’t know what to do. All he wanted to do is wrap him up in his arms and promise him that everything was going to be okay. He couldn’t. He knew that he couldn’t because for one, Jihoon hated hugs and for another, he knew that it wasn’t going to be okay. 

_ “Yah, Agassi! Where do you think you’re going?”  _

_ “Little bitch thinks he can hide from us,”  _

_ "Whatever, I’d only have to beat him up if I saw him and I’d rather not touch him at all. I might catch something from the diseased little freak,”  _

Jihoon still remembers hiding behind the school bins and behind the bike sheds on the days his mother had wanted to paint his nails.

Soonyoung seemed to be breathing better now, so Jihoon released his face and moved away. The taller idol looked small in that moment, smaller than Jihoon. His dress was wrinkled and rucked up and his lipstick smudged, eyes brimming with tears.  _ Fuck, don’t cry. _ Jihoon could not watch him cry. 

‘You’re beautiful’ were the words on Jihoon’s lips but, they weren’t the ones that left his mouth.

“I better go and get them off your case,” he blurted. “Do you need me to bring you some other clothes or do you have some?” 

Soonyoung motioned over to the bag on the toilet, clothes and makeup visibly inside. Jihoon nodded, stepping toward the door and resolutely ignoring the tears on Soonyoung’s cheeks. 

“Jihoon-ah, wait-” the words were hiccuped and Jihoon felt sick. He couldn’t do this. 

“Just,” he turned quickly to the boy on the ground, “Just change! We can talk later, just please, change.” 

Soonyoung flinched at fixed his eyes at the floor. 

Jihoon made sure the door only opened a crack as he left. 

**(17)**

“What happened in there! I was ready to break the door down!” Seungcheol demanded. 

“Chill out,” Jihoon rolled his eyes and shook his head in dismissal at the leader. “Soonyoung slipped in the shower and needed help, okay?” 

“Is he okay?” Jisoo cut in, pointedly ignoring Jeonghan, who was laughing beside him. 

“He’s fine, just give him a minute to sort himself out,” Jihoon waved them all off, pushing through the crowd. 

Once he was in his bed, he wondered if he could have handled the situation differently, if he could have done better. 

_ “Ah, what a pretty little thing, a boy couldn’t possibly have a face like that.”  _

_ “And look at his frame, he’s tiny, like a doll.” _

_ “Pretty.” _

_ “Little.” _

_ “Doll.”  _

He decided that he couldn’t have, turning over to bury his face in his pillow and attempt to sleep. 

That night, he dreamt of a thousand bluebirds swarming him and pecking harshly at his flesh. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> one mention of shinee ahead!! just wanted to give everyone a warning, hope you are all well and had a good new years!

Soonyoung had always known he was different. At age six, he had been asked by his teacher what he wanted from the dress-up box. After pulling out a Cinderella dress only to be chastised and given a crown and sword, it had become painfully apparent that he wasn’t like other kids. Soonyoung didn’t let it faze him though, he was a happy and intelligent child, quickly understanding what was permitted and what he should avoid. Dresses, make-up, heels and floral patterns were high on the list of things he couldn’t consider. His parents noticed his early preferences but quickly stocked it up as something he grew out of. Soonyoung didn’t mind that much, it was irritating of course but he was happy despite the limits on his physical expression. He always had dance. With pointed feet and strong moments, he flourished under the studio lights, loving the feminine movements and masculine strength. His whole life, he had felt pigeon-holed, caged, but dance changed that. When he danced, he didn't feel like a boy or a man, just himself.

When he passed Pledis auditions, he’d been delighted. This was his chance to dance as a career, to express himself the way he had always wanted. Things changed, however, when Soonyoung was sixteen and the shooting for Seventeen TV was underway.

There was a thrumming excitement in the dorm that morning, having been told that the would be spending time with the female trainees today, the boys were full of energy. The others had met some of them before but for Soonyoung, today would be the first time. He didn’t really understand what all the fuss was about.

“Who cares if we are seeing girls? It’s not like any of us even have time to date anyway,” Soonyoung wondered, talking to Wonwoo as the pulled on their socks and shoes.

“I mean, yeah, but still, isn’t it exciting to at least see them, like not even in a girl way just because they are also trainees so,” Wonwoo had got into a bad habit since they’d began filming of never really finishing his thoughts. The others teased him for it which meant he usually just stayed quiet a lot of the time.

“Yeah, I guess,” Soonyoung still didn’t really understand.

When they arrived at the practise rooms, the girls were already there. Soonyoung had thought they would be wearing the same ‘17’ branded shirts the boys did but, clearly they had yet to change. That was when he saw it, pale blue and beautiful, a longer dress that fell below the girl’s knee. It had sleeves that came to her elbows and lace on the trims that made Soonyoung want to touch. More than that, he wanted to see what that shade of blue would look like against the tan of his own skin.

“I like your dress,” he didn’t know why he said it but the words were out of his mouth before he could stop them.

“Oh, thank you,” the girl bowed her head slightly and smiled. Soonyoung could see a subtle glittery pink on her lips. It was pretty.

“I’m Soonyoung.”

“I’m Nayoung, pleased to meet you,” she greeted formerly.

Soonyoung struggled for what to say next until Nayoung’s eyes seemed to light up as she caught sight of the bag slung over his shoulder.

“SHINee! You like SHINee?” she seemed almost frantic, enthusiasm and excitement flowing from her in waves.

Soonyoung grinned, sure that he and Nayoung would get along just fine.

She had ended up being the first person he told. Over take out, in a dance studio after hours. She and a couple of the other older girls were practising late and Soonyoung practically lived there anyway.

“-doesn’t really matter, everything will be worth it when we debut,” said Nayoung, through a mouthful of noodles.

“Yeah,” Soonyoung looked down at his dish, stirring his chopsticks through it thoughtfully.

“Hey, what’s up with my favourite boy? It’s once in a million years that I see a frown on that face,” Nayoung prodded.

Soonyoung knew it wasn’t her intention but her words cut into him deeply. It was something she often said, usually in front of Seungcheol to annoy him. _Her favourite boy._

“Nothing, the last few days have just been tiring is all.”

Soonyoung dropped his chopsticks and walked over to the computer to restart the music. He was working on a new choreography for some beats that Jihoon had been working on.

“Soonyoung,” Nayoung called before the music started, “Are you gay?”

“What?!” Soonyoung spun to face her.

“Sorry, just-”

“What? What could have possibly led you to ask me that?” Soonyoung shouted, defensively.

“Sometimes I just, you look at the clothes me and the girls wear with such awe. It’s not ‘interest’ like the others, it’s awe, and I’ve seen the way you light up when the stylist-noonas do your makeup. It’s okay! I’m not going to-”

“I’m not gay, Noona,” he interrupted.

“Oh.”

“Besides,” began Soonyoung, “Even if I was, none of those things make someone gay, that’s not what being homosexual is even about.”

“What is it about, then?” she pushed.

Soonyoung considered just excusing himself, telling her he didn’t know what she was talking about. He thought about leaving the practise rooms and never speaking to Nayoung again. He thought about going home and hiding under his blankets whilst his mother sang him lullabies. Mostly, he thought about how tired he felt, how his bones ached and his heart hurt from the truth he had always buried.

“It’s about being who I am,” he tried to say it proudly but knew he sounded scared. “It’s just that sometimes who I am is someone who wants to wear dresses and dark lipsticks.”

“Okay,” she said, smiling her usual smile.

“Really?”

“Yes.”

And that was that.

In the years that followed, Nayoung passed on her old mascaras and skirts to Soonyoung. The clothes were folded and stashed in a duffel bag at the bottom of the dorm’s smallest wardrobe, where it wouldn’t be noticed.

Well, it wasn’t noticed until Jihoon walked into the bathroom and saw him, wearing his favourite dress and struggling with his newest pair of shoes. He had managed to keep everything under wraps, everything secret. Until, Lee Jihoon had left him crying on the bathroom floor, smeared eyeliner ruining his skillfully contoured cheeks.

Soonyoung called Nayoung, once he was in his regular clothes with a clean face. Then, when she didn’t answer, sent her a very frantic text.

**HO SHE:  
** jihoon knows!!!!!!! what do i do????

Several hours later, she replied rather unhelpfully.

**Best Noona:  
** Good!! He had to find out some time. Talk to him. It’ll be okay Soon-ah, he loves you.

Soonyoung used to think so. Just this morning, he had thought that he and his members shared a bond that could never be broken. He had since learnt, looking into Jihoon’s hard eyes, that he might be mistaken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> soonyoung's backstory for y'all, based on my own experience growing up so hopefully makes sense. sorry for the lack of plot progression haha.


	3. Chapter 3

Jihoon did not cry. He said this often. When he did, there was often someone (see: Seungcheol) pulling out their phone to play various videos, all of which showed fat, thick tears rolling down Lee Jihoon’s cheeks. Jihoon did not cry. At least, he did not cry about things like this. 

It had been three days and Jihoon was still fighting against the lump that formed in his throat whenever he thought about Soonyoung’s face, ruddy pink and pained. Jihoon’s chest felt as if it was being crushed when Soonyoung passed him in the dorm, when their eyes met in the mirror at dance practise. 

Seungcheol had, of course, noticed because he made it his business to know the ins and outs of all the member’s disputes and arguments. Usually, Jihoon appreciated this but, as Seuncheol fixed him with a concerned expression and eyes that said ‘What’s wrong with you and Soonyoung?’, he just kind of wanted to punch Seungcheol in the face. 

“What’s up?” it was Junhui, soft and a little nervous. He was looking at Jihoon like he expected the smaller idol to scream at him without a moment’s notice. Jihoon had to hold his tongue and calm his breathing so not to prove him right. 

“Nothing,” he said, through gritted teeth. 

“Sorry, you just, you seem tense and I know you’re often stressed out but I’m here, if you wanna talk-” 

“I’m fine!” he snapped.  _ Well, so much for keeping calm.  _ Without another word, he stood from his seat in the kitchen at the practise rooms and stalked towards his studio. 

Once inside, he threw himself face down onto the sofa. The leather was constrictive and hot against his skin, suffocating him. He didn’t move though, enjoying the tightness in his chest when he knew it was only caused by lack of air. 

He didn’t know how long he laid there before someone knocked at the door, two short raps followed by one more that Jihoon hated that he recognised. 

“Hoonie?” 

Soonyoung sounded so small, unsure and lost. It made Jihoon feel like a failure. 

Closing the door, Jihoon heard as Soonyoung walked over and sat on the arm of the sofa. The tips of Jihoon’s trainers were touching Soonyoung’s thigh. It was quiet but for the distant echo of tinny music and Seungkwan practising his vocalisation. Jihoon felt his vision blur with water and he sat up quickly, using the movement to shield his sleeve swiping across his eyes to dry them. He wanted Soonyoung to leave. He was about to say as much when Soonyoung broke the silence. 

“I’m fucking sorry okay.” he sounded surer now, harsh. “I’m sorry you saw all that and I know you must be confused but-”

“I’m not confused.” 

Soonyoung stopped and turned to look at Jihoon in shock.

“What do you mean?” 

“I’m not confused.” Jihoon repeated. He had no idea where this confidence was coming from but the apologies falling from Soonyoung’s are making Jihoon’s heart ache. 

“You’re,” Soonyoung is taken aback still, “You’re not confused?” 

“No, I’m not Soonyoung.” 

They sat like that for a minute, Soonyoung struggling to catch his train of thought. 

“Look,” Jihoon began, “I’m sorry for making you feel like I judged you. I was just surprised and a little freaked out. No need to look so afraid and no need to apologise.”

“Oh…”

“It’s none of my business, none of anyone’s business, anyway.” Jihoon shrugged, hoping this would assure Soonyoung and they could agree to never talk about this again. 

“Thank you, but…”

“It’s okay if you want to wear stuff like that. I don’t care, Soonyoung.” 

This was a half truth. Jihoon wasn’t lying, he didn’t care if Soonyoung wanted to wear dresses.  _ Blue dresses that contrasted in the prettiest way against Soonyoung’s pale arms. _ It didn’t change their friendship and didn’t change their professional relationship (and if the memory of Soonyoung’s eyes lined with kohl and lips cherry red made Jihoon’s heart skip then he wasn’t going to mention it). It was a half truth because seeing Soonyoung now, knowing that he looked so pretty, made Jihoon feel breathless and reminded him far too much of when he was thirteen-years-old and wearing his mother’s black stilettos. 

“It’s not just about what I wear though,” Soonyoung finally said, letting his head fall back against the wall. “I’m...I know you might not understand this, Jihoon, but I’m not...I’m not a boy, Jihoonie.” 

That wasn’t what Jihoon had wanted to hear and he tried desperately not to let it show on his face. With the memory of Soonyoung’s tear-streaked cheeks, he swallowed all his arguments, his warnings, his fear. Promising himself that everything would be okay, he reached out to grip Soonyoung’s shoulder. 

“It doesn’t matter, you’re still Soonyoung.” 

Soonyoung’s smile was so blinding that Jihoon forgot how to breathe for a moment. 

“Thank you,” Soonyoung practically whispered, moving down to sit beside Jihoon and lean his head onto his shoulder. Jihoon accepted the contact, hand coming up to stroke soothingly through Soonyoung’s hair. 

They sat together for a while, Soonyoung tucked into Jihoon as the minutes ticked by. Soonyoung smiled into his chest and Jihoon pushed down all his worries, letting himself smile too. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is short and terrible but jihoon needed some redemption so enjoy some soft angsty cuddles and stuff


	4. Chapter 4

It had been quiet for Seventeen the last few weeks. At least, as quiet as life for an idol group could be. Promotions were over and preparations for the next comeback were underway. 

And that would all be fine if Jihoon could actually compose anything good enough. 

“What are you talking about? These melodies are great, Jihoon-ah.” Seungcheol was attempting to comfort him and Jihoon would sell his soul for the older singer to just shut up. 

“They’re terrible,” he lamented, miserably. Seungcheol just scoffed and fell silent. 

To be fair to Seungcheol, he was right. There was nothing wrong with the melodies or the instrumentations of the songs, it was the lyrics that were the problem. Jihoon thought it would be fine. He thought he could just change the words later but he couldn't get them out of his head. Now, everytime he heard the tunes, he heard the soft refrains and lovesick lullabies loud and clear. 

It had been almost a month since Jihoon and Soonyoung had talked and Jihoon was still thinking about it. He kept writing songs about blue dresses and red lips and flat chests and none of it was right. On top of it all, Soonyoung’s coming out to him had brought back the itchy feelings he always worked so hard to repress. It had been years and he could still feel the memory of bruises on his skin but...he still felt out of place in his body, the same as he always had. 

“Look,” began Seungcheol, voice laden with exhaustion. “I understand you over-thinking your work sometimes, we all know it’s a lot of pressure but you can’t behave like this. Just present the songs to others tomorrow and see what they think, yeah?” Seungcheol took Jihoon’s silence for agreement and beamed at him. Jihoon tried desperately to keep his scowl, but Seungcheol really was adorable and he found himself smiling back before he could help it. 

**(17)**

Soonyoung was frantically searching for his makeup wipes. 

“Aish, shit- where are they?” he muttered, throwing clothes out from his drawers. He had wanted to try out the new lip stain that Nayoung had gotten him and thought there was no harm in seeing how it looked. However, the others were waiting for him to eat dinner with them and he couldn’t find anything to get his lips clean. 

In a last ditch effort, Soonyoung abandoned his own drawers to rifle through the others. Seungcheol’s bore no fruit, just underwear and a half-empty box of cigarettes. Soonyoung considered the tobacco, before putting it back and rationalising that their leader was under a lot of stress. He hesitated before stepping toward Jihoon’s. Dark waves of energy seemed to be streaming out from the side table that sat beside Jihoon’s bed, a flashing sign overtop that read “DO NOT TOUCH JIHOON’S STUFF IF YOU WANT TO LIVE”. Soonyoung shook his head, the warning mirage fading from his eyes as he walked over and pulled the top drawer open. 

Inside, there was nothing remarkable (a collection of chewed biros, some scribbled sheets of composition paper, two packets of ramen and a tupperware filled with various pieces of jewellery). Moving onto the next drawer, Soonyoung struggled to contain a cry of victory. Amongst the folded pajamas, he saw the wipes he had been searching for. It had already been several minutes and Soonyoung was conscious of the limited amount of food probably left for him. Quickly, he grabbed the wipes and pulled one out. As he was scrubbing at this mouth however, he saw something sparkling in newly uncovered part of the drawer. Most of his logical brain shouted at him to ignore it. As he often did, he ignored this and looked closer. 

It was a nail polish bottle. 

It wasn’t a big deal. Really, having a nail polish was easily explained. Jihoon could have bought it for a costume, or for his mother or a friend. It was a dark shade of red, still bright and filled with glitters that wouldn’t have suited an older woman. It looked like something a young girl would buy on her first trip down the cosmetics isle. At close inspection, Soonyoung could see shifting rainbows, flickers of colour that proved the glitter inside was holographic. It seemed over the top at first, but the sparkles were small enough that they didn’t overpower the red. The bottle’s cap was chipped and scratched, the glass also covered in imperfections. Old and probably half gloopy inside, the polish was far from its glory days. It was most likely some forgotten gift that Jihoon hadn’t remembered he owned. Still, Soonyoung tried desperately not to think about how it would look on the younger boy. Jihoon had always been pale, small and waifish, fairy-like. Soonyoung loved the way dark colours looked on him, black t-shirts that tapered to his chest and that one red snapback.  _ Yeah, Jihoon looked good in red. _

It was just a nail polish and yet, it was something. It was another one of the small things about Jihoon that would usually be overlooked by most people. Like how Jihoon hated being doted on and being called cute, whilst simultaneously pulling his sleeves over his hands and pouting when someone was mean to him. They weren’t important things but, they started adding up. Soonyoung couldn’t help but remember when Jihoon and he had spoken in the kitchen the day after their ‘talk’. 

_ “I know it’ll be hard with the others not knowing but…” Jihoon hesitated, he was looking at Soonyoung with worry in his eyes.  _

_ “But?” he prompted, which caused the worry to melt into what seemed like determination.  _

_ “Do you want me to use any different pronouns for you?” he asked, the words coming out so fast they were practically on top of each other. Most people would have had to ask Jihoon to repeat himself but Soonyoung was fluent in Anxious-Jihoon-Speak.  _

_ “Do I…” Soonyoung was taken aback.  _

_ “Or honorifics, like, if you want?” Jihoon continued. The small singer looked insecure and Soonyoung was still speechless. Jihoon busied himself with making toast again to avoid the awkward silence that had fallen between them. It was only broken when Soonyoung started laughing.  _

_ “Are you gonna call me Noona, then?” he chuckled, teasing Jihoon.  _

_ “Oh, shut up! You’re not even my hyung!” Jihoon went on tip-toe to hit the back of Soonyoung’s head. He just barely reached, what with the distance between their bodies, but Soonyoung neglected to mention it when Jihoon was already mad. The silence fell again, the two of them standing together until the toaster pinged loudly.  _

_ “I better go get some sleep, still got a lot of choreography left to finish,” he said and Jihoon nodded. Before he could leave, Jihoon called out to him.  _

_ “You didn’t answer my question.”  _

_ “You were serious?” Soonyoung asked.  _

_ “Of course, I know-” he stopped, sighing before he continued. “Just let me know, okay?”  _

_ “I will.”  _

Once Soonyoung was in bed that night, that wondered how it could be that Jihoon would think to ask that. The singer had even used the english word for ‘pronoun’. It wasn’t really a topic that most people were knowledgeable about, especially not in Korea. Soonyoung doubted that even Joshua would know, despite his American background. 

That had been a sizable piece of evidence to support Soonyoung’s new theory, that Jihoon new more about the trans experience than he was letting on. The nail polish was just another ‘something’ to add to the pile. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so basically this story is terrible but seeing as the chapters are short, it's not too hard to write. sorry about the literal month since my last update but it's been uni deadlines and starting new modules so i've been busy, plus having major block on my main fic. anyways, hope you enjoy this little chapter and (as always) remember that @pinepitch is a hard junhui stan.


	5. Chapter 5

Jihoon liked winter. He liked the way the cold sank into his bones and made his fingers numb, liked how he could pretend the ache in his limbs was just caused by the weather. Most of all, he loved layering up. As a child, he had always enjoyed the heat and the freedom it brought, to wear shorts and flimsy shirts. He missed that sometimes, how he had felt comfortable with his body.

‘Adore U’ promotions were hard. Although it was his own fault, writing a song that was the very essence of summer and boyhood. When the stylists had presented his with the baby-pink shorts, he wanted the ground to swallow him up. His members helped, always full of compliments as they were (Jihoon swore being a seventeen member was like signing up to an anti-insecurity master class). He just wished those compliments could come in a form that didn’t make his skin itch. 

So yes, layers were certainly to Jihoon’s liking. Baggy hoodies and jackets that covered the smallness of his body, the flatness of places he sometimes wished would be curved. 

Dysphoria was something that Jihoon was far too familiar with. He had seen the phrase during his early internet searches. Annoyingly, labelling the feeling had done nothing to help alleviate it. 

Before Soonyoung, it had been easier. Jihoon had convinced himself that he couldn’t ever be accepted, that life was full of compromises and this was just one he had to make. Being a man was the price he paid for making music, for achieving his dream. Seeing Soonyoung like that, learning that he wasn’t alone, made everything seem real. Being himself became a possibility. Mostly, it gave him hope and that had been Jihoon’s greatest fear. 

He knew all too well, that there was little more powerful (and dangerous) than hope. 

**(17)**

_ “It doesn’t have to be like this, you know?”  _

_ Jihoon hated it when Marcus looked at him like that, eyes all earnest. It frustrated him.  _

_ “I don’t have a choice,” he tried to explain.  _

_ “There’s always a choice,” Marcus scoffed, face twisting before settling back to that earnest desperation.  _

_ “I’m fifteen, I’ll grow out of it.” Jihoon hoped that saying it would make it true.  _

_ “Jihoon-ah, you’ll never be happy if you don’t-”  _

_ “I’m not like you! I don’t have english friends back home who understand. I don’t have parents who would come to understand. I have no one,” Jihoon snapped.  _

_ “You have me.” Marcus grasped Jihoon’s wrists, making their eyes meet.  _

_ The wind whipped through their hair, salt searing their skin. Sea sounds crashed in Jihoon’s ears as Marcus’ words settled between them. Moonlight was all that illuminated them, creating an ethereal sort of glow on the surface of their skin. Jihoon only ever let them meet at night.  _

_ “You’ll leave,” Jihoon whispered, eyes squeezing shut.  _

_ “I promise,” Marcus gulped, gripping Jihoon so hard he started to lose feeling in his fingers. “I’ll stay as long as you want me.”  _

Most people thought that Jihoon’s first kiss had been when Seungcheol kissed him as a punishment during a broadcast. He hadn’t ever told anyone that it had in fact been on the Busan beach, under the stars, safe for the first time in years. 

Marcus went back to England two months later and Jihoon moved to Seoul as soon as he turned sixteen. 

**(17)**

“Ah, Hyung! Stop!” Seungkwan was squealing, thrashing in desperate attempts to escape Jeonghan’s tickling hands. 

“But Seungkwannie is so cute!” Jeonghan protested, voice high-pitched and lisping. 

Jihoon watched with amusement, making no move to assist his Dongseang despite the singer’s pleading eyes. Just moments before, Jeonghan had approached Chan to administer a healthy dose of his love. Unfortunately for their affectionate Hyung, Chan had to help with a choreography and was whisked away by Jun. Seungkwan had been the nearest substitute candidate and Jihoon couldn’t risk exposing himself to similar fate. He had worked hard to cultivate a repelling aura in his quest to escape skinship but, it had yet to become effective on some of his Hyungs. 

“Leave him be, Han, he’s starting to go purple,” Jisoo laughed, seeming mostly entertained by Jeonghan, despite his words. Jeonghan sighed and released Seungkwan, who gasped for breath desperately. 

A loud bang to his left caught Jihoon’s attention. Against the wall, Mingyu, Seokmin and Wonwoo were attempting handstands (Seokmin and Mingyu) and laughing raucously (Wonwoo) whenever they crumpled to the floor. Jihoon smiled. He may not show it sometimes, but he loved how loud and excitable his members could be. They seemed to make every situation at least a little more fun. It reminded him of one of the songs from Mary Poppins. 

“Woozi-ah!” Junhui’s voice broke him from his thoughts. “Hoshi wants you,” the dancer explained. He was wearing a loose, blue shirt that revealed the sweat soaking his back and sides. Jihoon noticed the droplets that sparkled on the furrow of his brow and dripped from his collarbones. 

“Oh? You guys done with the dance?” Jihoon asked, hopeful. The choreography was for the new performance unit song and Jihoon knew that Soonyoung had been struggling with it for weeks. 

“Ah, not really, sorry,” Junhui said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck guiltily. Jihoon was tempted to comfort him for a moment. The tall dancer was too apologetic for his own good, having a tendency to take on responsibility for any inconvenience. “Coups Hyung came and told Hoshi to take a break for a bit.” 

“Mmm,” Jihoon hummed, noticing that Jun did look a little wrecked. Of course, they were always sweat-soaked and exhausted when they danced, but Jun had a slight tremor under his eyes and his body was swaying unsteadily. 

“I’ve got it,” Jisoo muttered into his ear, the older standing and walking to Junhui to support the dancer’s weight and lead him to a seat. He gave Jihoon a small nod and he smiled in response. 

When Jihoon reached the practise room, he heard the muffled sound of the song and the violent creaking of the floor through the door. Inside, Soonyoung was too focussed to notice Jihoon’s entrance. He was stretching his body in sharp extensions, fingers splaying and toes pointed to the rhythm of the song, before clenching into a contraction when the chorus hit. He looked like music made human and Jihoon was breathless. Despite the beauty of his movements however, Soonyoung’s face showed a haggard and pained expression which made Jihoon wince. He was throwing his entire body weight into each move and Jihoon feared that his bones might snap. 

Without a word, Jihoon walked to the laptop set up in the back corner of the room and switched off the music. Without it there was only the sound of Soonyoung panting, pulling air into his lungs erratically. The dance leader met his eyes in the mirror. 

“You don’t seem to be taking a break?” Jihoon commented. His voice seemed to break whatever concentration was keeping Soonyoung standing, the idol crumpling to ground. 

He lay on his back, staring at the ceiling and not replying to Jihoon’s teasing question. A few moments passed before he settled on the floor beside Soonyoung, laying down with him. 

“Why can’t I get it right?” Soonyoung muttered, once his breathing had slowed. 

“Because you’re a detail-oriented perfectionist?” Jihoon posited and Soonyoung huffed. 

“You’re one to talk.” 

Jihoon couldn't argue that. They let the silence settle over the two of them for another few moments before Jihoon felt a warmth against his fingers. He turned his head to the side but Soonyoung didn’t meet his eyes as he slipped his hand into Jihoon’s. 

“You can do it, I know you can,” Jihoon said quietly, tightening his hand around Soonyoung’s briefly in comfort. Soonyoung sighed. 

“Yeah, I know.” 

As the minutes dragged on, Jihoon felt sweat begin to gather between their palms. The practise room lights were bright and hurting his eyes, the walls so thick that the silence was near absolute. His back was aching with the strain of laying on the hard floor. Soonyoung moved to burrow into his side and Jihoon lifted an arm to wrap around him. 

It wasn’t like the sea or the moonlight or the pressure of lips against his own and he didn’t want it to be. It was hot and the recycled air from the cooler had a strange aftertaste. Soonyoung threw an arm around his middle and he instantly felt the dampness even through his shirt. The dancer was still radiating heat and Jihoon could feel his face flushing with the warmth. 

Jihoon didn’t move, allowing Soonyoung to wrap his body up in long limbs and the sound of their synced breathing. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> idk man sorry for never updating im basically just a bad writer :/ 
> 
> anyways this is just some character background and relationship development stuff, hope you enjoyed and i promise i will write something sweeter next time, jihoon will be happy one day 
> 
> p.s. @pinepitch, that sweaty jun description and sweet jisoo content was for you, hope you liked xx


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finally time for smut my children

_“Fuck, more, please,” Soonyoung begged, voice hoarse. His back was pulsing with the strain of arching it, hips bucking up without permission. Feeling breathless, the dancer gripped onto the bed sheets desperately._

_“Be patient,” the voice was sharp, commanding. It was low in pitch and gave Soonyoung goosebumps._

_He gasped, keening as a hand wrapped around his dick firmly. Nimble fingers traced patterns on his hip as he was pinned down, unable to thrust up into the hold. The sensations were fuzzy, not quite as satisfying as they should be._

_“Faster,” he groaned, biting onto his bottom lip harshly. He didn’t feel any sting and hoped that meant he hadn’t broken the skin._

_“Not yet.” The hand on his cock tightened slightly, twisting as it continued to pump him at a slow pace. “Don’t move.” Releasing its grip on Soonyoung’s hip, the other hand moved up and began to map out softened shapes of his abdominal muscles._

_It took all of Soonyoung’s willpower to obey the words. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly, focussing on keeping himself calm._

_“That’s better,” the voice sounded satisfied._

_“Aish, please, please…” Soonyoung begged._

_“You beg prettily, Soonyoung-ah.” The hand jacking him off began to speed up, spikes of pleasure striking through him and knocking the breath out of him._

_“Can I-?” he cut himself with a moan._

_“Cum for me.”_

_Soonyoung felt the feeling pulse through him, vivid and clear. His orgasm left his muscles weak and his throat sore as it cracked on a desperate “Jihoon”._

**(17)**

“What the fuck am I going to do?” Soonyoung bemoaned, head in his hands and body curled in on itself. He looked like someone who had lost hope in ever finding happiness again.

“Well, that’s not usually the reaction I expect from someone after waking up from a wet dream,” Wonwoo said, laughing at his friend’s dramatics.

“Leave me alone! I need to wallow,” he insisted, voice thin and trembling. He kept his eyes squeezed close.

“Are you really that embarrassed?” the rapper asked, confusedly. He was sure he remembered a similar incident to this when they were trainees and Soonyoung had just laughed before heading to the shower. “You were moaning, was it not...was it a nightmare?”

“Yes,” Soonyoung croaked, “a horrible nightmare! Unforseen horrors!” he exclaimed.

“I see,” Wonwoo chuckled, his friend’s joking voice pushing concern to the back of his mind.

Upon entering the room at first, Wonwoo had run to Soonyoung’s bed. He had been about to jump on top of him when Soonyoung had groaned loudly, kicking out a leg and rolling over. Wonwoo hesitated, listening to Soonyoung’s small noises with amusement. He had considered taking out his phone to record the incident, but decided he enjoyed the other’s friendship just enough not to. The rapper was hungry and wanted to leave sooner than later, so he had woken the other by flopping heavily on top of his sleeping form. After being awoken, Soonyoung let out a shocked yelp. He was angry and disorientated, before Wonwoo saw his face crumple in some horrible realisation.

Since then, Soonyoung had been curled up in the previously mentioned ball of self-pity.

“Want to talk about it?” Wonwoo asked, after a few moments of silence.

“No,” Soonyoung replied quickly. “Sorry,” he added, seemingly worried that Wonwoo might take offense. Wonwoo just shook his head in response and shuffled up to rest his back against the wall and pull Soonyoung’s head into his lap.

“Look,” he started, sighing as he began threading his fingers through Soonyoung’s hair absentmindedly. “I know you’ve been stressed with the choreographies and vocal training and all the bullshit we have to deal with since debut but,” Wonwoo paused, “you’re happy, right?”.

If Soonyoung was surprised by the question he didn’t show it, simply humming in consideration before answering.

“Yes. I couldn’t be happier if I tried.”

Wonwoo believed the first part, but couldn’t help hearing the doubts and possibilities hidden in the second.

**(17)**

**HO SHE:**  
hypothetically

**HO SHE:**  
purely in theory

**HO SHE:**  
but what is the correct course of action if you have a dream about a friend

**HO SHE:**  
an r-rated dream

**Best Noona:**  
Ahhh, my baby is all grown up!!

**Best Noona:**  
Also, I’m sure Woozi wouldn’t mind re-enacting it with you.

**HO SHE:**  
how….

**HO SHE:**  
it wasn’t

**HO SHE:**  
about him

**Best Noona:**  
Sure. Of course. Yup.

**(17)**

The room didn’t appear to be as static as it should be. Junhui was dancing at such a speed and intensity that the moves seemed to shake the walls, mirrors creaking loudly. Jisoo watched curiously as the younger boy twisted, extending his arms to create an intricate series of patterns. The music playing was a classical piece, something from china that Minghao had once told him the name of.

“Is he human?” Jeonghan whispered conspiratorial. Jisoo chuckled in response, tearing his eyes away from the dancer to look at his friend.

“Honestly, if anyone of us isn’t human then it’s Woozi,” he argued.

“Aish, that kid has been giving me such a headache these days,” Jeonghan lamented.

“Oh?”

“You haven’t noticed? Him and Soonyoungie?” Jeonghan looked surprised, before narrowing his eyes and asking, “Are you blind? I mean that would probably explain your dancing these days-”

“Shut up,” Jisoo interrupted, pushing the other’s shoulder. Jeonghan laughed and used the momentum to settle into Jisoo’s side on the backswing.

“Kidding, kidding, but you seriously haven’t noticed?”

“Mmm, guess I’ve just been focussed on other things,” Jisoo said, looking forward again to see Junhui, who had pulled off his sweat-soaked vest shirt.

“I wish I was so lucky, I’ve been watching them practically eye-fuck each others backs whenever the opportunity arrives,” Jeonghan spoke in a long-suffering tone, moulding his face into a pitiful expression of pure agony. Jisoo smiled, still staring ahead. He knew that Jeonghan was faking, the only thing his friend loved more than gossip was romantic gossip.

“I’m sure they’ll work it out,” comforted Jisoo. The music had faded out and Junhui was swaying on his feet, body probably only able to stay up due to the adrenaline swarming his veins.

“I hope so.”

**(17)**

Jihoon was terrified. He was so scared that he felt like a little kid, so small and tiny under the weight Minghao’s gaze.

“You want me to come...dress shopping with you?” Minghao asked, raising an eyebrow and Jihoon wanted to cry.

“Y-yes,” he answered, not able to meet the youngers eyes.

“Why?” Minghao sounded surprised and maybe a little amused. He certainly didn’t sound disgusted, which was a start, Jihoon supposed.

“Because you know about fashion and stuff,” Jihoon justified, avoiding Minghao’s actual question. In response, the dancer raised his eyebrow even higher and Jihoon huffed, his annoyance finally winning out over his fear. “Just come, okay? Your hyung asked you!” he snapped, pulling out the only advantage he had. He looked down at the ground as he spoke.

“Sure,” Minghao agreed, finally.

“Please, I just- Oh,” Jihoon cut off his plea. “You’ll come?”

“Sure, it must be important if you’re asking, hyung,” he smiled.

Jihoon wasn’t going to hug him. He wasn’t.

“Besides, If you’re this embarrassed asking then I can’t wait to see you in the store,” Minghao continued, smile twisting into a smirk.

Jihoon wasn’t going to kill him. He wasn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lmao hope you enjoyed, this is pretty shit but i wanna stop pressuring myself with this story and just be fun so yeah stuff will go down soon but for now hope you like this haha
> 
> in a delightful change of pace, @pinepitch is now jisoo biased so hope i'd like to dedicate his thirsty ass to her


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another update???! i, the writer, am shocked and stunned

It had started a few days after their discussion in the practise room. Jihoon watched as Soonyoung worked himself to bone and felt his heart break. On top of it all, when they were sent to costuming, Jihoon could see the way the dancer scowled at his attire; black jeans and buttoned shirt. The hints of glitter that Jihoon had noticed on Soonyoung’s lips were gone and Jihoon knew it must hurt, not to be free to express the way he wanted. 

He wasn’t really sure of what to do. He couldn’t tell Soonyoung to come out because he himself was terrified of their members reactions and he wasn’t in the business of hypocrisy. In the end, he decided that getting Soonyoung a gift might help him get his confidence back. Despite their conversations, Jihoon could see that Soonyoung still had doubts about Jihoon’s acceptance of him. That couldn’t stand (and if Jihoon’s skin was itching at the thought of being in a nail varnish isle again then that was just an added bonus). 

This was all well and good in theory but Jihoon didn’t know anything about clothes. Luckily, he had enlisted the help of someone who did.

**(17)**

Colour hit Jihoon like a well timed slap to the face. Sweet smells filled his nostrils, quickly making his skull pound with the beginnings of a headache. He had almost forgotten how much he hated women’s perfumes, filled with those grotty, floral scents that made people smell like they’d been swimming in a dirty river filled with mouldy rose petals. 

“Do you think these would look good on me?” Minghao asked, holding up a pair of black boots with spiked, stiletto heels. He didn’t appear to be joking, fixing Jihoon with a considering look. 

“The idea of you being taller than you are currently is one that I find personally offensive and generally repulsive,” Jihoon said, glaring at the shoes. Minghao looked between Jihoon and the shoes, laughing and putting them back onto the shelf with a shrug. 

“I’ve actually been thinking about it for a while. I think heels would really round off the whole avant-garde thing I’ve been going for,” Minghao reasoned. 

“Can we get back to why we actually came here in the first place?” Jihoon was growing impatient. They’d been in the store for almost fifteen minutes already, Minghao selecting a multi-coloured tote bag that caught his eye and stopping at every bright display they passed. 

“Hey, I came with you, didn’t I? At least let me actually get some shopping done.” 

Jihoon frowned but relented, following the taller as he searched through the shiny jackets and hoodies lining the rack. He had never liked shopping, preferring to order clothes and simply return them if they didn’t fit right. At first, he had considered ordering his gift for Soonyoung but had quickly found himself lost in a sea of measurements and different fitting sizes that he couldn’t understand. Seeing the clothes in person was his best chance. 

“You ever gonna tell me why you want a dress?” Minghao asked absentmindedly, holding up holographic coat to himself and looking into the mirror fixed to the nearby wall. 

“It’s not for me,” Jihoon protested. 

“I mean...I didn’t,” Minghao stopped and turned to look at Jihoon curiously. “I wasn’t implying that, hyung.” 

“Oh, I, well it’s just-” 

“Are you thinking of experimenting? Goodness, hyung, I would never expect you to be so open minded!” Minghao’s eyes widened almost comically. 

“Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?” demanded Jihoon, forgetting to deny it. 

“Nothing, hyung, really I can’t believe this! Are you Trans?” Minghao rambled, stepping closer to Jihoon and lowering his voice. 

Jihoon’s jaw dropped, mouth hanging open widely. He had worked for years to cultivate an image of extreme masculinity and with just one hint, it shattered. He wanted to scoff at the accusation, to tell Minghao the dress was a gift for a female relative, to laugh at the stupidity of the statement. Unfortuantely, he was in such a state of shock that it appeared he had momentarily lost control of his own voice. 

“Hyung, you’ll catch flies,” the younger chastised, pressing his fingers to Jihoon’s chin and pushing his mouth closed forcibly. When the singer didn’t react, Minghao waved his hand in front of Jihoon’s blank eyes. “Hyung!” 

“I…” Jihoon had no idea what to say. 

“I was just joking around, I’m sorry, if you are it’s really okay,” Minghao rushed, hand clasping Jihoon’s shoulder in an attempt to ground him. 

“It’s not a funny joke,” Jihoon said finally and Minghao shook his head violently. 

“No, no, of course not, I didn’t mean it like that, I just-”

“How did you mean it? What would you know about it?” Jihoon snapped, shaking off Minghao’s touch and stepping back from him defensively. “Let’s just get it over with, okay?” He turned on his heel and stormed towards the escalator that led to the women’s department on the second floor. Minghao was spluttering, hurrying to follow the older. 

Jihoon quickly busied himself pushing through hangers on the closed rack, eyes stinging at the reflective quality of some of the flashier shirts. The clothes before him were a sea of white, silver, gold and red, possibly the leftovers of a festive section. Thin and soft, the material brushed over his fingertips as he flicked through, steadfastly ignoring the dancer beside him. 

“I’m sorry, didn’t mean to pry,” Minghao said lowly, leaning in closely. Jihoon didn’t turn to face him, keeping his eyes fixed forward. 

After several moments, Jihoon sighed and turned to the next rack. 

“It’s okay.” 

This one looked more promising, holding items in colder colours; green, purple and (Jihoon’s favourite) blue. Minghao didn’t say anything else as Jihoon examined each of the shirts, skirts and dresses one by one. Eventually, he pulled out three options. 

“I like that one, it’s casual,” Minghao commented, pointing to the middle dress. It was plaid, long and checkered, styled like an button-up shirt. The squares were shades blue and black, azure to cerulean, ebony to charcol. Jihoon hummed in consideration, looking between Minghao’s choice and the third piece of clothing. Flashier than the other two, the third dress had long, lace sleeves and was short enough to come to mid thigh. 

Jihoon reminded himself that this was a gift, something to comfort and cheer up Soonyoung. It was not an opportunity to live out his own fantasies (even if the idea of seeing the deep, navy colour against Soonyoung’s pale skin made Jihoon feel short of breath). 

The first option was quickly dismissed and Jihoon looked back and forth between the remaining two. 

“The lace one, uh, it has a chest fitting so,” Minghao started, speaking in fragments due to his hesitance. Jihoon didn’t answer but took Minghao’s word into consideration. 

Not wanting to drag this out any longer, Jihoon put the lacy dress back and looked at the sizing on his choice. The dresses were labelled extra small (8-10), small (10-12), medium (12-14) and large (14-16). Jihoon was a little lost. 

“I’d guess small is your best bet,” Minghao supplied, “although you might have to hem the length,” he added, prompting Jihoon to turn and scowl at him. 

“I already told you, it’s not for me!” 

“I just thought-” 

“Well you thought wrong,” Jihoon interrupted, spinning to face Minghao fully. He wanted the action to portray his violent anger. He was to be feared. Unfortunately, the dresses in his hands twirled around him when he moved, making him look so silly that Minghao couldn’t help but burst out laughing. “Shut up!” Jihoon all but shouted, drawing far too much attention. He was at least thankful they had driven far out of town and their manager was waiting in the car. 

“I’m just trying to help, hyung,” Minghao comforted, still wiping tears of mirth from his eyes like the disloyal betrayer he truly was. “It would help if I knew who this was for, though?” 

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Well, clearly in regards to sizing choice, it does.”

Jihoon chose not to dignify that with a response. He settled on the medium size because it looked around the right length and Jihoon had always liked the ‘middle-of-the-road’ approach. Having made his choice, he smiled at the thought of Minghao’s true purpose on this excursion. 

“Here’s my card, I’ll see you in the car,” he smirked, pushing the dress and his card into Minghao’s arms, the items already held by the younger making it impossible for him to resist. 

“The cashier will know that I could pull it off!” he shouted after Jihoon. “This isn’t hurting anyone!” 

Once again, Jihoon did not dignify that with a response. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so yeah that was hoonie and minghao's fabulous dress adventure!!! sorry it's mostly jihoon being pissy, i can't help that it's his natural state (lmao he sorta came out can you believe his repressed ass) 
> 
> p.s. no joshui this time but it won't be long, but i guess for now @pinepitch will have to settle for the member of seventeen she liked the THIRD MOST, lee jihoon


	8. Chapter 8

“We should probably go through it with them one by one, right, hyung?” 

Soonyoung loved watching his members dance, their limbs clicking into the precise places that he had helped design. It was immensely satisfying, watching as the pieces slowly pulled together to create the final product. 

“I mean, they look good but I don’t think the vocal team really has the right feeling…” 

He especially liked watching Jihoon dance. He was so small, lithe limbs and slim figure. They had all bulked up during the last few years but, Jihoon has always been a slip of a boy. Soonyoung marvelled at the way he gave each move its own power, its own strength. 

“I’ll go to the hip hop team and you help the others?” 

Jihoon was wearing a sleeveless shirt today. Not that Soonyoung was paying special attention to the singer’s clothes. Of course not. It just wasn’t common for Jihoon wear revealing clothes, especially not outside of the comfort of the dorm. 

“Hoshi-hyung, are you listening to me?” 

The music faded and Jihoon turned back to the mirror, chest heaving and breathing raggard. Sweat was noticeably beading together and dripping down from the arch of his shoulder, tracing its way through the valleys carved by Jihoon’s bicep. 

“Hyung!”

“Hmm,” Soonyoung finally looked away from Jihoon, answering Chan’s call. 

“Did you hear what I said?” Chan asked. He was fixing Soonyoung with a long-suffering expression but he didn’t seem angry at least. 

“Yes, yes, we need to show them the specifics of the steps more closely. I got it,” Soonyoung assured, waving his hand noncommittally. 

“Good,” Chan said, beaming at his hyung and standing to head over to where the hip hop unit were leaning against the wall. “Don’t let Woozi-hyung distract you,” he muttered under his breath. 

Soonyoung heard him. 

**(17)**

Jihoon was tired. Lethargy was making a home in his muscles, against his bones. It hurt in the arches of his feet and in the in the mounds of his shoulders but, it was a satisfying kind of pain. The sweat caused goosebumps to burst up across his arms and he shivered. His body was a storm of small discomforts, his knees and elbows filled with complaints. 

After an hour of practise, Soonyoung had split them up; sending Seungkwan and Seokmin off with Minghao and Jisoo and Jeonghan to Junhui. 

The dance leader had spent the rest of the time pressing his hands to Jihoon’s forearms and wrapping his arms around his waist to correct his form. Soonyoung had nodded and smiled on their last run through, glancing around the room to check everyone’s progress. He looked calmer than he had the last few days, the sight of a finished dance clearly mollifying his worries at least a little. 

He dismissed everyone with a yell, congratulating them all with slaps on the back and a broad smile. He looked exhausted, deep set bags beneath his eyes and skin a few shades paler than usual. Jihoon was glad to see him grinning again, at least. Although he’s feel better if the dancer went home and got a good night’s sleep. 

“Aren’t you leaving?” Soonyoung came up to him when all the others had left, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. Jihoon’s knees didn’t appreciate the added weight, but the warmth of Soonyoung’s skin against his was more than worth it. 

“Nah, I’m gonna go to the studio for a bit.” 

“Don’t be ridiculous, you look like you can barely stand,” Soonyoung scoffed. Jihoon just raised his eyebrows, silently pointing how the hypocrisy of his statement. 

Soonyoung moved away from him, towards his backpack against the speaker control board. He began pulling out a change of clothes and Jihoon’s thoughts snapped toward the gift bag hidden in his studio. It was a week since his shopping trip and there hadn’t been an opportunity to give his purchase to the intended person. Well, other than the four times times he and Soonyoung had been alone together both in the dorm and at the studio (Jihoon had lost his nerve on each of these occasions). 

“Soonyoung,” he started, making the idol in question turn to face him expectantly. Jihoon opened his mouth to continue, but the words stuck in his throat. In that moment, with Soonyoung right in front of him, Jihoon was terrified again. 

“Yeah?” the dancer asked, after a few long moments of silence in which Jihoon stood with his mouth open like a goldfish. 

“Will you come to the studio with me?” he asked, procrastinating. 

“Sure,” Soonyoung smiled, although his eyes were still shrewd in question. He looked like was trying to work Jihoon out and it made the younger feel flushed, unable to meet his eyes. 

Soonyoung put the clothes back into his bag, seemingly deciding to change later, and followed Jihoon out of the practise room. 

“Sorry, I know you’re tired, I won’t be long,” Jihoon said, words rushed. Soonyoung shook his head as if to dismiss the other’s apology, sitting down on the sofa in the studio. 

Jihoon busied himself with closing down some of the mixes he’d been tweaking earlier in the day, trying to ignore the way Soonyoung watched his movements so closely. 

The large, paper bag that held the dress was under his desk, hidden behind a wide speaker. Jihoon could see a hint of purple tissue paper peeking out from the top, practically taunting him for his cowardice. Taking a deep breath, he grabbed the bag’s handles and pulled it out carefully. 

“What’s that?” Soonyoung asked and _that was it, no going back_. Jihoon thought his hands might be shaking. 

“It’s uh...It’s for you. I got it for you,” Jihoon said, thrusting the bag out for Soonyoung to take. “You seemed stressed out and I wanted to cheer you up, I guess, you’ve been working so hard and-”

“You got me a gift?” Soonyoung seemed a little awestruck and Jihoon hoped he wasn’t blushing. He wasn’t known for showing care and affection like this and Soonyoung was clearly surprised. The dancer was touched and Jihoon felt like this must be some terrible mistake. 

“Open it,” he said, when Soonyoung made no move towards the bag. He rolled his chair close enough to drop it into the other’s lap, feeling a weight settle in his chest with the realisation that the gift was now (literally and figuratively) out of his hands. 

Soonyoung grinned, shock fading to be replaced by gratitude. He eagerly reached into the bag, coming up empty with handfuls of violet and lavender tissue paper. Jihoon’s heart was practically beating out of his chest. When Soonyoung finally pulled out the material, Jihoon felt like time had slowed, the dancer’s eyes widening with curiosity as he unfolded the garment.

At first, one could easily mistake it for a shirt but, as it unfurled, the reality became all too clear. The hem of the dress was skimming the floor as Soonyoung held it up in front of him. It was obscuring his face, hiding his reaction from Jihoon and the singer felt as though he might pass out from the apprehension filling him. He frantically fought the urge to apologise, waiting for Soonyoung to speak. 

Sniffles broke the silence, breaths that sounded more like like hiccups escaping Soonyoung’s mouth. The blue curtain fell, Soonyoung’s hands clenching into fists around the fabric, causing it to crumple as he pulled it into his chest. 

“Soonyoung-” 

“Th-thank you,” Soonyoung muttered, he was hiding his face in the balled-up dress, stumbling on the words. 

Jihoon wasn’t able to reply before Soonyoung barrelled forward, throwing his arms around Jihoon’s neck. It took several seconds of his brain screaming before Jihoon remembered to hug him back. 

“It’s no big deal,” Jihoon said quietly, trying not to notice the way his lips were practically brushing against Soonyoung’s ear. The dancer let out a sob, pressing his face into Jihoon’s collarbone. Jihoon smiled. “Don’t cry,” he chastised, tightening his grip around the other. 

He let Soonyoung sniffle into his chest for a while longer. Eventually he pulled away, turning to grab a box of tissues. 

“Can I try it on?” he asked once his tears had been wiped, eyes sparkling at the idea. Jihoon cursed himself for the way his heart skipped a beat, telling himself that Soonyoung was doing this for himself. It wasn’t that he wanted Jihoon to see. _It wasn’t._

“Of course, it’s yours.” 

Soonyoung beamed, practically radiating happiness like it was heat and his smile was the summer sun. He stood up and pulled his shirt over his head, obviously not caring about changing in front of the other. Jihoon closed his eyes out of respect for his own sanity. Behind his eyelids, he saw the image of Soonyoung in the bathroom all those months ago. He hadn’t been able to forget it. 

“Well,” Soonyoung said, prompting Jihoon to open his eyes. “How is it?” 

Jihoon didn’t really know what to say to that. Soonyoung smiled in the way that made his eyes point upwards even more dramatically than usual, sharpening his features. He spun around, letting Jihoon see the dress from all angles. He looked good. _He looked fucking beautiful._ The blue made the lightest specks of brown in his eyes sparkle, turning liquid gold. Soonyoung looked so happy, so confident, _so goddamn pretty_ that it was making Jihoon feel dizzy. 

Soonyoung raised his eyebrow at Jihoon’s silence, obviously waiting for his review. He tried, but the words died in his throat. He couldn’t think. Eventually, Soonyoung’s confidence faltered, a frown beginning to form on his lips. _His pretty fucking lips._

“Hoonie? If it doesn’t suit me then just tell me, don’t be afraid to hurt my-umphh!” 

Soonyoung didn’t get to finish his sentence before he was cut off by Jihoon. The younger reaching up and pulling him down by the collar to press their lips together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> first kiss!!!! stunning!!! look at that plot progression wow!!
> 
> i am currently separated from my dear pinepitch so i hope this soothes her poor heart whilst i am away, no appearances from her bias (mr. hong) but i hope she will forgive me for that


	9. Chapter 9

Soonyoung wondered if there was a self help guide that could advise him on what to do in this situation. He thought it unlikely. He could’t imagine  _ What to do When Your Friend (you know? the one you’re in love with) Kisses You and Jerks You Off in His Studio and Then Pretends it Didn’t Happen When it Definitely Did _ being a top seller. 

“He won’t even look at me,” he muttered, tone as bitter as black coffee. Over the phone line, Nayoung hummed sympathetically. “And he was the one who kissed me in the first place.” 

“He did more than kiss you,” she giggled and Soonyoung would have glared at her if he could. 

“Noona.”

“Sorry, sorry,” she said, tone becoming serious. “I really am sorry, Soon-ah.” 

“Yeah,” he agreed, pulling his knees up to tuck them under his chin. “You don’t think…never mind.”

“What?” Nayoung pressed and he cursed himself, knowing she wouldn't let it go easily. 

“Just,” he struggled, wondering how to put his thoughts into words. “Do you think it was the dress? Is that why he…like maybe it’s just a thing for him.” Soonyoung screwed his eyes shut at the idea, the thought making his stomach turn. 

It was silent on the other side of phone for a few moments. Nayoung was like that, preferring to collect her thoughts before speaking, unlike Soonyoung. 

“You think that little of him?” she asked, finally, taking her time with the words. Despite the softness of her tone, the question still felt like a punch to the gut. The whole mess still had indecision and confusion swirling through his mind, but he was sure of his reply. 

“No, I know he wouldn’t use me like that.” 

“Then what’s the alternative?” she asked, voice filled with the patience and simplicity that one might need when leading an animal into its pen. 

Soonyoung knew what she was implying. He knew what she wanted him to say, what she believed. More than anything, Soonyoung wanted it to be true, wanted to believe Jihoon felt that way about him. 

“I...I don’t know,” he settled on, the reply causing Nayoung to sigh deeply into his ear. 

“You’re a piece of work you know?” 

“I know,” he said, a smile growing on his face for the first time in the last few days. “You love me anyway.” 

Nayoung agreed that she did and began telling Soonyoung about Pristin’s recent concert performances. He didn’t really listen, just letting the sound of her voice soothe his heart just like it always had during their trainee days. 

He tried not to think about Jihoon,  _ tried _ being the operative word. 

**(17)**

_ Jihoon couldn’t help the rush of adrenaline in his veins when Soonyoung moaned into his mouth. The dancer fell into his arms eagerly, the surprise of the kiss having long since faded to be replaced with enthusiasm. He was making keening noises, hands clutching at the front of Jihoon’s shirt. Without meaning to, Jihoon let his hands slip down to Soonyoung’s hips, holding them tightly and pulling the other so their bodies were flush.  _

_ The seconds seemed to pass like minutes, Jihoon’s body bursting with sensations as Soonyoung seemed to move even closer to him.  _

_ “Fuck,” the dancer gasped, pulling away to steal a breath before swiftly reconnecting their lips. Jihoon shivered at the gravel in his voice, the huskiness that sunk down to his bones and reverberated with ‘I did that, I made him sound like that’.  _

_ He knew he should stop. He knew that this was the very definition of a bad idea, but as Soonyoung slipped one of his legs between Jihoon’s, rutting against his thigh, stopping was the furthest thing from his mind.  _

_ Spinning them round, Jihoon pressed Soonyoung into the table edge, prompting him to shift to sitting on top of it. The position evened out the height difference between them, easing the strain of their mouths meeting. Soonyoung whimpered as Jihoon gripped his thighs, nail digging into the muscle through the material of the dress. Jihoon wished he could see, that he could pull back and see Soonyoung’s ruddy cheeks and slick, red lips.  _

_ “Hoonie,” he groaned into his mouth, the nickname sounding like a plea. Always one to take instruction well, Jihoon reached down to fumble with the buttons close to the dress’ hem. Alarm bells were ringing loudly in his head as he slipped his hand under the waistband of Soonyoung’s underwear.  _

_ The moan that escaped Soonyoung’s mouth made him seem like sin personified, his body shaking when Jihoon wrapped his hand around his hardness. He trembled in Jihoon’s arms, letting out desperate whines. Jihoon growled in the back of his throat. He jerked Soonyoung off hard and fast, trying desperately not to think about how pliant and small the other felt against him. Jihoon felt as if Soonyoung might crumple and fold, might collapse if it was not for Jihoon holding him.  _

_ “Please,” Soonyoung begged as he buried his hands into Jihoon’s hair, pulling slightly. “Please, Hoonie, need-” he broke off with a hiccup of pleasure, breaking their kiss to press their foreheads together. Without the distraction, Jihoon could feel panic edging his mind, but he pushed it away. He focussed on his hand, jacking Soonyoung off faster and moving to bite down on the dancer’s neck.  _

_ Soonyoung’s cry was like the crack of a whip, sharp and loud as his body shook with the pleasure crackling through his veins. He came with a whimper, smacking Jihoon’s shoulder weakly when the singer continued to touch him through the aftershocks.  _

_ The effect was cataclysmic, Jihoon’s anxiety snapping the moment that he stilled. His face was still buried in Soonyoung’s shoulder and he could feel his body slackening as his orgasm faded. Jihoon’s heart was racing, thoughts a mess of fear and regret.  _

_ Seeming to come back to his senses, Soonyoung reached down to the buckle of Jihoon’s belt and the singer couldn’t help but jerk away. He pulled his hand out from Soonyoung’s underwear awkwardly, stepping back.  _

_ “Jihoon…” _

_ He didn’t hear the rest of Soonyoung’s sentence. He couldn’t even look at the dancer. Despite all his better instincts, Jihoon turned on his heel and left the room, hoping that he would be leaving all his guilt and fear there when the door slammed behind him.  _

**(17)**

“Aish!” Jihoon yelped when Seungcheol opened the door, the wood cracking against the top of his head. 

“Why are you lying on the floor?” he asked, looking down at the singer with a puzzled expression. He looked even more puppyish with his lips pouted in confusion. 

“I’m thinking,” was Jihoon’s reply as he sat up, rubbing his head. 

“Why do you have to be on the floor to do that?” Seungcheol inquired, knocking Jihoon’s hand away to check his head for any serious injuries. “I think you’ll live,” he concluded. 

Jihoon scowled at him, getting to his feet and heading over to the sofa. He collapsed into it. He missed his studio. In the dorm, he couldn’t go more than ten minutes without being accosted. Still, anything was better than the waves of self-hatred that crashed over him whenever he entered his studio. 

Seungcheol sat beside him, lifting Jihoon’s legs to place them over his lap. He soothed his palms down the length of Jihoon’s shins, humming thoughtfully. His body language spelled  _ tell hyung your worries.  _ Jihoon ignored him. 

“Pass me that salt, hyung,” Jihoon could hear Mingyu say from the kitchen. 

“No,” Wonwoo replied. The response was followed by a thud and Jihoon smiled, visualizing the way Mingyu would have cuffed Wonwoo over the back of the head. 

“You ever gonna tell me what’s up with you?” Seungcheol asked, clearly tiring of the silent approach. 

“Nothing,” Jihoon grunted, pulling out his phone so he wouldn’t have to meet the other’s eyes. He didn’t have to look up to know that Seungcheol didn’t buy it. 

“So you haven’t been avoiding a certain dance leader?” 

“What?” Jihoon looked up, cold dread flooding his stomach. _ Did Soonyoung say something?  _

“You really think no one noticed? You haven’t even looked at him in a week. Every time he enters the room, you find an excuse to leave and he’s just there looking like kicked dog,” Seungcheol explained, looking at him like he thought Jihoon might be the biggest idiot on the planet. Jihoon couldn’t help but agree. 

“We’re fine,” Jihoon argued, still holding onto the hope that he could go without talking about this. Seungcheol scoffed, tapping his fingers on Jihoon’s slippered feet irritatedly. 

“He’s been crying,” Seungcheol said after a moment, the words twisting painfully around Jihoon’s heart. He remembered the way Soonyoung had cried into his shoulder that night, face splitting with a wet smile. 

“I don’t want to fucking talk about it,” Jihoon snapped, pulling his legs from Seuncheol’s grip and standing up. 

“Jihoon-ah!” Seungcheol called after him as he stalked out of the room. 

Jisoo and Junhui were stood by the front door, looking at Jihoon concernedly. He ignored them, simply pulling on his shoes, grabbing a coat and slamming the door behind him. 

He had a lot of practise in running away. At least there was one thing he could do right. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay i'm sorry i have it out for jihoon but he's a repressed lad okay, he has i s s u e s 
> 
> hope you enjoy this smut and angst and it doesn't break you too much haha
> 
> josh and jun just got back from an evening stroll btw, they needed to take a break from wrecking pinepitch's bias list


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry it's been an eon since i updated, had university deadlines

Soonyoung was in the leaders’ bedroom when he heard the door slam loudly. Before, he had heard the low murmur of voices, both from the kitchen and living room. After the loud banging, the murmurs silenced and left a terrible calm. It felt icy, pushing its way into the joints of Soonyoung’s bones like a cold front. Despite his own emotional turmoil, he was quick to worry about the others, wondering who had left so suddenly. 

“Coups hyung?” Soonyoung called out as he left the bedroom, walking down the hallway and entering the lounge. The named rapper was there, sat on the sofa with his head in his hands. Standing by the room’s other doorway was Junhui and Jisoo, looking at Seuncheol with concern. The two looked up at Soonyoung’s entrance, pity filling their gazes and Soonyoung felt his stomach twist painfully. “Who slammed the door?” 

Seungcheol jumped slightly at the question, eyes snapping to Soonyoung and immediately filling with that same awful sympathy. He didn’t answer, no one did. 

“Was it...was it Woozi?” Soonyoung choked on the name, using the stage one instead, because the other still reminded him of a hot studio room, tissue paper and a dress still covered in tear-stains. 

“Yeah,” Seungcheol confirmed, the rapper rubbing the back of his neck guiltily, as if any of this was his fault. Usually, Soonyoung liked how Seungcheol always took responsibility for them all, seeing it as his duty to help, but right now it only upset him more. 

“Can someone…” Soonyoung started, eyes jumping between the three. He wanted more than anything to leave now, to chase after Jihoon and hold the smaller singer close to his chest. He didn’t think it would help though and Soonyoung couldn’t face the idea that Jihoon might reject his embrace. 

“I’ll go,” Jisoo said calmly, giving Soonyoung a sympathetic look. Soonyoung really didn’t like how his current mood was making all his members’ best traits seem irritating or hurtful. “It’s getting late.” 

“I’ll come with you,” Junhui offered, quickly making to follow as the elder moved to leave the room and walk back towards the door. 

“No, it’s...I’ll go alone,” he insisted, giving Junhui a significant look. The dancer immediately nodded, looking down. There was something there, crackling between the two, but Soonyoung didn’t have the energy to process it. He just wanted Jihoon back here, safe. 

“Make sure you take your phone with you.” 

“Yes, Leader-nim,” Jisoon cooed in response to Seungcheol, causing their leader to frown in annoyance. It made Soonyoung feel like smiling. 

Some things, at least, hadn’t changed. 

**(17)**

Jihoon wasn’t a particularly warm person. That’s not to say that he wasn’t an amusing or entertaining person though. Despite his internal angst, he enjoyed joking around with his members and taking part in skits when the kids got bored. He was a kind person and made good company. He just wasn’t a social personality, which led to a minimal amount of relationships with anyone he didn’t see on a daily basis. 

Although, there were exceptions. 

“Noona,” he whispered into the night air, hearing the crackle of the call being picked up through his earphone speakers. It was cold, a harsh wind creating ripples across the surface of the Han River, causing the streetlight reflections to shimmer. 

“Jihoon-ah?” answered Ailee, slightly husky with sleepiness. 

“I’m sorry if I woke you,” Jihoon rushed, feeling guilt and nerves flood his system. 

“Don’t be silly,” she assured, breaking half-way through the phrase to yawn. She sounded warm and safe. Jihoon couldn’t help but sink into it, letting his body melt into the bench comfortably. “Aren’t you home? I can hear the wind.” 

“No…” he said, shifting in his seat, skin prickling at the thought of worrying her. 

“Why not? Is everything okay?” she rushed, sleep clearing from her voice and the syllables becoming sharp. Jihoon fought the urge to lie, to tell her that he simply wanted to talk, to check in on her. He knew that she would see through him either way, but she had always respected him enough to pretend that she believed it. 

“I…” he gulped, considering, “I fucked it up, Noona.” 

Ailee tutted, huffing in that way that Jihoon knew meant she was preparing herself to wage war on his insecurities. 

“Why is it that I find that hard to believe?”

“It’s true this time,” Jihoon said, his mind filling with the look on Soonyoung’s face every time he ignored him. “I hurt him so badly. I’m a horrible fucking person.” Kicking the dust on the ground, Jihoon felt his heart squeeze with more self-hatred than he had felt since he was in high-school. 

“Why?” she asked, simply. 

“What?”

“Why did you hurt him?” 

Jihoon’s mind tripped up at that. It was a good question. It made his eyes sting and pangs of shame to press themselves to his temples, but it was a good question nonetheless. 

“You don’t want to know who it is?” 

“Answer the question, Jihoonie,” she demanded, yet still with a sweetness of voice that made Jihoon crumple. It reminded him of years lost in Seoul, feeling aimless and terrified. When Seungcheol had been a terrifying wall of masculinity that Jihoon feared would turn on him the moment he let a word slip. Back then, every boy had been a temptation and damning, a reminder of everything Jihoon could never hope to be. It was cliche, but Ailee was the sister he’d never had and she’d been taking him to pieces and rebuilding him for years now. 

“Because…” he bit his lip, cursing the truth that was there, shouting itself in his head over and over. “Because I’m a coward, Noona, fuck I’m just-just so fucking scared.” 

“You’re one of the bravest people I know,” she said, plainly. “You’ve been through so much, Hoonie. You work harder than anyone I’ve ever met and have struggled through some truly horrible things. Life isn't easy, Jihoon, and you know that more than anyone, but you’ve always come out on top. You’re a good person, I know you can make it right.” 

“But what if I can’t,” he croaked, tears finally welling up and spilling down his cheeks. The wind was cold and stinging against the wet tracks marking his skin. 

“You can.” 

She spoke with finality, an assurity that sunk down to his bones and warmed him all the way through. He had no doubts that she truly believed what she had said. There was little more comforting in this world to Jihoon than someone having faith in him. 

“Thank you,” he said, finally, after a long silence filled with only his quiet sniffs. 

“You’re amazing, Jihoon-ah, you can do anything you set your mind to. Don’t forget that.” 

“Thanks Noona,” he repeated, wishing he could see her and hug her. “I’ll try.” 

“I have to go, but call again soon, yeah?” 

Jihoon was just about to respond when he heard his name being called. 

“Jihoon-ah,” Jisoo huffed, panting as he came close. His face was flushed red with both exertion and the cold. 

“Yeah, goodnight, Noona,” he rushed, before pressing the pause button the right wire of his earphones to end the call. He stood and made to walk away, only stopped by Jisoo’s hand clamping onto his wrist. 

“Hoonie, please,” Jisoo begged, a hint of desperation in his voice. 

“Just leave me alone, I’ll be back later,” he snapped, attempted to shake the elder off. 

Jisoo wasn’t having any of it, gripping the singer’s arm tightly and pulling him back. 

“Just listen, you can’t go on like this,” he began. 

“What do you know about it?” Jihoon argued, still attempting to pull away. He managed to release himself from Jisoo’s grip, pinching the elder’s underarm so he jerked back in pain. He was stepping away when Jisoo spoke. 

“Don’t you know that this is what’s hurting him most?” 

Jihoon stopped.  _ Who the fuck was Jisoo to say that to him? What gave him the right to-  _

“I’ve been there, Hoonie. Please, just listen, I can help.”

Jihoon took a deep breath, before turning and sitting back on the wooden bench, allowing Jisoo to take a seat beside him. 

It was a little colder now, the wind picking up as the night deepened. The surface of the river was so disturbed that the reflections were unclear and blurred. 

“So…” Jihoon prompted. 

Jisoo looked at him, eyes busy with thoughts. He let out a long breath, before beginning to speak. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> time for jihoon to get some gay therapy from the nation's favourite homosexual (and pinepitch's bias), joshua hong 
> 
> many apologies it's been so long since i updated, i had so many uni deadlines but i'm out for summer for three moths so expect many updated now haha
> 
> p.s. pinepitch said she would be updating her exo fic for the first time in a century and she still hasn't delivered, i feel attacked (also i miss you dude) 
> 
> p.s.s. anyone else still ruined by every aspect of call call call????


	11. Chapter 11

“You and Jun?” Jihoon asked, incredulously. 

“Yeah…” Jisoo confirmed, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. He didn’t seem to want to meet Jihoon’s eyes. 

“But I thought…”

“You were the only one?” Jisoo said, laughing slightly. “We are performers in the entertainment industry, Jihoon. You are in a thirteen member group. You’re not a statistic outlier,” he chuckled.

Jihoon supposed that was true. He’d read once that, in America, one in ten people identified as LGBT+. He didn’t know why he thought that that statistic might not relate to Koreans. The country may be more conservative, more traditional, but surely Korean people couldn’t simply be heterosexual at a higher rate. Still, he figured that he and Soonyoung made up two in thirteen, already batting above the usual average. He had never thought to factor their occupations into it. 

“You and Jun?” he asked again, quieter this time, almost to himself. 

“For a couple months now,” Jisoo confirmed. 

“How’d you even figure me out?” Jihoon wondered aloud. It seemed all his work to conceal his identity hadn’t been as effective as he thought. 

“I see the way you look at Soonyoungie,” Jisoo sighed. “I know that look. I’ve  _ had _ that look.” 

Jihoon was still struggling to come to grips with this. He’d spent all this time feeling alone when Jisoo had been right there, right in front of him. The wind was really picking up now, Jihoon’s knuckles flushing red with numbness and cold. He stared at them in his lap, waiting for Jisoo to say something else. Eventually, he spoke first. 

“You said you can help.” Jihoon would do just about anything for the sound of Soonyoung’s name not to feel like a shard of glass being driven deeply into his, already damaged, heart. 

“Well, you might have to tell me what happened first?” Jisoo said sheepishly. 

“It was the dress,” Jihoon began, words slipping out before he could stop them. 

“What dress?” 

Jihoon considered it. He didn’t want to betray Soonyoung’s trust, despite it all. Jisoo might like boys too, but that didn’t mean he understood anything beyond that. Jihoon wanted him to, more than anything. He wanted to talk about it, wanted people to know who he was, wanted his  _ members _ to know. For years, he only wanted to keep it secret, but these people were like family to him. No, they were closer than family. 

“I...sorry, I just,” Jihoon’s words failed him. He couldn’t do this. 

Jisoo’s hand covered both of his, squeezing over his clasped hands comfortingly and rubbing warmth into them. He had almost forgotten, with everything going on, just how much all his members meant to him. 

“You know pretty much everyone knows about me and Junnie? They...they don’t care, Jihoon-ah,” Jisoo said, gently. “You don’t have to be scared like this.” 

“I…” Jihoon didn’t know how to explain how he couldn’t believe that. 

“We’ve got you,” Jisoo promised and Jihoon looked up at him. The elder’s brown eyes were sincere, warm as they usually were. Jihoon really hoped he didn’t look like he was about to cry because he certainly felt that way. 

“You have?” 

“Always.” 

Jisoo pressed his fingers between Jihoon’s clasped pair, separating them so Jisoo could link their pinkies. The chill of the air should have made the metal ring on Jisoo’s finger a little cold to the touch. It wasn’t. It was a steady heat, clinking slightly against the band on Jihoon’s own finger, the two silver strips catching in the light that shone from the streetlight overhead. 

The contact was small, near unnoticeable, and it was all Jihoon needed to hear the unspoken ‘I promise’ in Jisoo’s touch.  

**(17)**

Soonyoung felt relief shock his system as he heard the front door open and close, quietly. There were two hushed voices in the corridor, one of which definitely belonged to Jihoon. He couldn’t make out what they were saying, just hearing the shuffling of shoes and crinkle of coats as they came in from the landing. 

“Goodnight, Hyung,” Jihoon whispered when the two reached the outside of the leaders’ room. “Thank you.” 

“Goodnight, Hoonie.” 

Soonyoung made sure to clamp his eyes shut tightly as the door opened, not wanting to be seen awake and waiting for Jihoon’s return. He hated how, even after everything that happened, he still just wanted Jihoon home and safe. Soonyoung expected to hear the ruffling of duvet covers, possibly the unzipping of Jihoon’s jeans as he got ready for bed, but instead he heard soft footsteps making their way toward him. He hoped the singer didn’t notice his surprised intake of breath, when his mattress dipped with the weight of Jihoon sitting on his left side. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, gently resting his hand on Soonyoung’s head. Slowly, his fingers began to card through the dancer’s hair. Soonyoung struggled not to hum contentedly, he loved when people played with his hair. 

Jihoon didn’t speak again for a little while, simply shifting Soonyoung’s hair through his fingers and breathing unevenly. It wasn’t long before drowsiness set in fully, pulling Soonyoung under until he was toeing the line between awake and asleep.

“I promise I’ll tell you again, when you wake up, just how sorry I am,” Jihoon said, words a little broken and lacking in clarity. His throat sounded sticky with emotion and Soonyoung almost wanted to open his eyes, hold Jihoon in his arms and promise that  _ I forgive you, I forgive you, I forgive you.  _

But, a second later, he was asleep and dreaming of Jihoon’s smile under clear skies. There was a deep blue on the back of his eyelids that stretched on and on, made up of cornflower cotton reels and ribbons of smooth, flowing turquoise. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry it's pretty short, i just really wanted the chapter to end there 
> 
> we are getting close to the dramatic stuff now boys!!! please look forward to those emotions lmao
> 
> i posted this for pinepitch since she is at work and probably needs something to maintain any optimism she might once have had (i love you and i miss you like jihoon misses his bed whenever he is forced to leave it) 
> 
> as always, don't forget pinepitch is a loyal jisoo stan and i would die for kwon soonyoung, thank you for your time

**Author's Note:**

> why the hell am i doing this?? this was supposed to be non binary soonhoon fluff but shit got angsty, i'm so sorry
> 
> pinepitch is such a terrible influence, because of her, we are both neglecting our exo fics and writing transgender seventeen stuff instead, i blame her for all my sins


End file.
